


postmortal

by TrashcanWithSprinkles



Series: postmortal [1]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Banter, Happy Ending, I Don't Even Know, M/M, Medieval Fantasy, Pining, Romance, and dream goes 'ill be your guide take me with you', basically they meet and techno is on a mission to kill the dragon but doesn't know how to get there, but like real, it's just............ it's just minecraft, just take this please, no beta we die like men, no trapped in the videogame this is their lives, soft, then oopsie daisy here come the feelings, wilbur and phil are there for like two seconds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:08:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26564134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrashcanWithSprinkles/pseuds/TrashcanWithSprinkles
Summary: In which Dream meets a stranger in a forest, and decides to tag along to kill a dragon.[Sept 25, 2020 update:] read beginning notes please and thank you
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Dave | Technoblade, Clay | Dream/Dave | Technoblade
Series: postmortal [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1934143
Comments: 127
Kudos: 2014





	postmortal

**Author's Note:**

> you know how it is, if either of them don't want this stuff then this fic disappears. also respect them or so help me you won't have joints to move with.
> 
> so yeah take my contribuition to the as-of-now barren dreamnoblade tag o7  
> oh and i'm the same fuck who wrote check chat, if anyone recognizes that from the dreamnotfound tag.
> 
> anyway yeah blood for the blood god, enjoy
> 
> [Sept 25, 2020:] i caught up with yesterday's stream. i think i'm not the only one who's a little unsure as to how to proceed. i mean, he said it's cringe to ship him, but idk if that translates to 'i find it weird but ok i guess' or 'pls don't ship me'. not to try and use this as an excuse, of course, but i feel like this fic is 60% story and 40% shipping, so i'll leave it here until we have confirmation on whether we should be taking down the fics or not. if he says yeah pls don't ship me, then this goes poof. rn we only know he sees shipping as cringe but that's confusing,,,  
> anyway yeah just thought i'd clarify. again note that this is out of uncertainty rather than excuses, i know it'll be sad for us shippers to take everything down immediately but that doesn't matter if he truly doesn't want this. so for now i'll wait for a more clear confirmation.  
> if anyone has a better grasp of this than me please leave it in the comments! (i don't use twitter so idk what's going on there)

One might say risking his neck to repay a favor was taking gratefulness a step too far, but Dream decided this wasn't a matter of repaying so much as it was serving justice.

The villagers had been very kind in letting him stay the week in their small hamlet, and having them suffer because of his proneness to attracting trouble didn't sit right with him.

If he had to go out of his way to track down the bandits and pillagers that kidnapped the innkeeper and her two sons, then so be it.

What he hadn't been expecting was to come across a small scout party of them surrounding another man in the middle of a roofed forest.

Of course, Dream had to intervene.

"How much do you wager we can sell your neck for, hmm?" he heard one of the bandits sneer to the man as he sneaked around, trying to get close without them noticing him. "I'd say at least a thousand gold."

"Well, that hardly seems fair; there's no way I'll be able to sell yours for more than two bronze," the man clapped back, and Dream almost lost his footing from the impression. He didn't sound particularly threatened, which was strange. "You're sure you want to fight?"

"I just want to cut you to pieces right about now," the same bandit as before growled, clearly pissed.

Dream had managed to perch himself atop a nearby tree when the fight erupted.

He watched, as he silently pulled out his crossbow, how the seven bandits all rushed the man in the red coat at the same time.

And he also watched them get slaughtered one by one with ease, swords and axes hitting and bouncing off a sharp diamond blade that was more a blur in the battlefield than anything concise. The man would circle around them, pull them, punch them into each other to create confusion; and then strike with slashes so fast Dream feared the sheer strenght of those arms to maneuver a diamond sword like a thin stick.

He only got a few shots in, one puncturing a pillager through the eyesocket as he tried to blindside the man, and the other lodging itself into the shoulder of another one trying the same tactic.

When the fight was over and all the bandits were lying dead on the floor, Dream was holding his breath in anticipation for the man's next move.

He watched him clean the blood off the blade in a swift swipe to the side, sheath it, and examine the corpses at his feet like it was an everyday sight for him.

He watched him notice his two arrows among the bodies, and straighten up to look around the forest in silence.

"Unless you missed terribly trying to kill me, I'm not going to hurt you," the man called, voice deep and calm. Dream swallowed. "You can come out now."

Dream contemplated dipping – staying silent and vanishing from the scene. But he was too curious. Who was this man? Why- How was he so strong?

He wanted to know. He felt compelled to look that man in the face and witness his skills a second time.

Besides, his voice was really, really nice; and Dream was nothing if not a fool.

So he dropped down with practiced ease, crossbow held low and non-threatening but alert nonetheless. The man turned halfway to watch him appear, and Dream tried not to freeze on the spot.

He wasn't bad-looking. Fuck.

Dark intense eyes held him in place as the man clearly processed the sight. Dream thanked his mask to hell and back for being there to cover him. "Well," the man began, gathering his thoughts, "thank you for your… contribution."

"I thought you'd need more help, sorry," Dream managed out, sheepish.

"Implying I needed help, but I can't fault you for that," the man mused, giving the corpses by his feet another once-over. "You weren't following me, were you?"

"No, no," Dream was quick to shake his head no, and the man seemed to believe him. "No, I was-- Well, I wasn't  _ following  _ them, but…" he trailed off, making a vague hand gesture towards the dead bandits. "I'm looking for their hideout."

"Are you, now?" the man sounded mildly surprised. 

"You too?"

"That depends."

Dream rolled his eyes, knowing the other wouldn't see him. "They kidnapped some people from the village I was staying at, I'm trying to rescue them."

"Huh, heroic," the man mused, no real inflection in his tone for Dream to tell whether he was mocking him or dead serious. "Well, I happen to be looking for their hideout as well; but I have to admit I got lost somewhere along the way, this is the third group of these buffoons I've encountered so far."

"Oh- I have a map," Dream revealed, patting his small backpack. The man quirked a brow at him. "The cartographer in the village made it with the instructions of an adventurer. Apparently they made it to avoid it."

"That's oddly convenient," the man mused.

"Life has its plotholes and this is the only lead I have," Dream shrugged.

"Fair enough. It sounds to me like you're proposing an alliance?"

"That's a weird way to word it, but if I could have your help in there, I'd appreciate it."

The man made a mock woe-is-me sigh that was so utterly devoid of emotions Dream almost chuckled at the theatrics. "I am once again wanted around purely because of my skills," he mused, going back to his deadpan demeanor immediately afterwards, as if the dramatic admission had never happened. He extended a hand out to him. "You can call me Technoblade."

"Dream," he shook his hand, and his grip was strong. 

"Well, Dream, lead the way."

The trek to the woodland mansion was mostly spent in amiable silence. Dream managed to focus on the map and how to traverse the dense roofed forest, instead of on the man quietly but dutifully following his lead. There was a strange yet comforting air of confidence about him, like he wasn't afraid of any of the things that could possibly happen in there.

Judging by the battle prowess Dream had witnessed earlier, he could easily guess why.

Once they found it, they took cover behind a big tree to assess the situation before going in.

"If we just kill everyone in there, rescuing those prisoners should be easy enough," Technoblade mused, nonchalant. 

Dream turned to give him a weird look, before realizing the mask was making it pointless. "What, and just murder everyone?"

"I don't see why not," the man shrugged. "It's that or letting them live to terrorize someone else. It's not like if you call the King's knights to deal with this the outcome will be any different."

"That… is true," Dream admitted, still weirded out by how quickly he'd rationalized that. "Wait, then why were you looking for this place?"

"I've heard rumors of an artifact," he hummed, attention turning to the entrance not far from them. "I want it."

Dream decided to let him be and loaded his crossbow, getting ready to storm the mansion.

It really shouldn't have come as a surprise that Technoblade barreled through the bandits and pillagers like it was nothing. Dream did his best not to stay behind, charging in close to him and covering his blitz through the hallways.

Even if he only disposed of two fifths of the bandits in the mansion, he'd never felt more confident in battle.

When they reached the top floor, they found a wide room with a single man in it. Technoblade immediately charged, and so Dream opted to keep a post by the door and prevent the stragglers from sneaking up on them.

He tried not to be worried nor distracted as he heard the crack of thunder snap through the room behind him.

He'd taken out four bandits by the door when the fight at his back seemed to end. He turned around, the slightest bit alert, but relaxed considerably when the man left standing was his impromptu companion and not the other one.

Technoblade had just finished storing something in his pocket when he turned to face him with an accomplished smile in dead eyes.

"Let's get your people," he stated, taking long strides to cross the room.

"Did you find the thing you were looking for?" Dream asked, a bit confused.

"I did, yeah – that man had it," he confirmed. "Let's go."

The innkeeper and her sons were teary and grateful as Dream helped them out of the cells they'd been thrown in, but he could hardly focus on her bubbly thank-yous with the feeling of Technoblade's eyes on his back.

He only tuned back into her rambling as they left the now empty-of-life mansion behind. She was now talking to the other man.

"Thank you so very much as well – please, today's dinner is on the house!"

Technoblade looked as though he had no idea what to say, the slightest bit uncomfortable yet trying his best not to be. "...I couldn't possibly--"

"I insist! Young man, you deserve to be rewarded for your efforts!"

Technoblade shot him a look, and Dream wasn't entirely certain if what he wanted was an out or just a better reply than whatever it was he couldn't come up with on his own. Dream just shrugged. "You did help me out a lot there." When that didn't seem to particularly exasperate the man, he added, "plus, if you have nowhere to stay the night, the room I booked has two beds, so. I don't mind." He did mind,  _ please _ say yes, he was lonely  _ and _ a fool.

"Alright, well," he seemed to relax a little, turning to the innkeeper, demeanor shifting to a composed one with practiced ease. "Just don't regret it later, because I'm starving."

The village almost threw a party upon their return, but Dream managed to defuse the situation the moment he caught, out of the corner of his eye, Technoblade regretting his life choices at the prospect of that.

They managed to sneak up to his room early into the small celebration that inevitably happened, and Dream pretended he didn't notice the knowing looks the innkeeper shot him past the counter as he rushed up the stairs after the man.

_ If only _ , he thought with amusement.

Technoblade discarded his coat and sat on the empty bed, Dream keeping himself distracted from the fact he was alone in a room with this strong man he was absolutely  _ not _ developing a childish crush on-- by closing the window and curtains to keep the room warm.

"Thank you," the deep voice from the other side of the room snapped him back to attention. "I'm good at stabbing strangers, not talking to them."

"I figured," Dream mused,  _ calm _ , as he sat on the other bed and began unlacing his boots. "So…" he began, scrambling to make conversation. "You have your artifact. What does it do?"

Technoblade hummed at that, taking off his boots as well. "Right now, nothing."

Dream tried not to sputter. "Okay. But what will it do?"

"Keep me from dying if I make a dumb mistake on this mission."

"With those skills?"

"Sadly, I am a mortal, and I do appreciate the insurance."

Dream huffed, amused. "Well- What is this mission you're on?"

Technoblade looked up at him as he unclasped the belt that held the sword's scabbard to his hips, and Dream was sure he only managed to maintain eye contact because his mask was on the way. "Have you heard of what's happening in the capital?"

His thoughts snapped back to the conversation at that, nodding softly. He  _ had _ heard. He'd heard the whispers in the streets, the gossip of the guards. All that talk about monsters, undead creatures-- appearing in the middle of the night and causing havoc in the streets. 

"The leaders of the King's council sent me to find the source, what might make them stop appearing if I kill it," Technoblade continued, serious.

"Kill it?"Dream asked, almost a whisper.

"Ever heard of the Ender Dragon?"

His brain stopped at that for a second.

"I have!" he exclaimed, surprised, and Technoblade blinked, probably not having expected so chipper a reaction. "No, actually- I have. I've read about it, I even have--" he cut himself short, rummaging through his backpack.

"I swear to God if you have a map to it--"

"No, I don't have  _ that _ ," Dream couldn't help but laugh, a bit too wild for his own liking. The exasperation seemed to melt away from the other man's face, for some reason. "But I do have writings that I think might be about getting into the dimension where it lives."

"Wait, really?" Technoblade asked, his voice sounding slightly hopeful. Dream tried not to smile like an idiot, even if the other couldn't see.

Dream spent most of the night going over the old journal with Technoblade, who moved to sit just close enough to put him on top of his nerves and make him sound like a rambling fool half the time.

He recounted how he found the old journal in an abandoned temple deep in the jungle north of his home town, and how he'd actually been looking for one of the structures mentioned in it when he had to make a pit stop in this village. He explained how he was looking for a cure to the illness that took his mother, and that the journal spoke about life-saving potions that could be made with materials found in a place called the Nether. 

Apparently, one of those materials was also needed to activate the portal that would let one enter the End dimension. 

So, if they could find a portal to the Nether, they could obtain the materials needed to activate the portal that would send them to the End.

…

_ Them? _

"Hey, I want to see the dragon, too," Dream insisted. 

"With what skills?" Technoblade retorted, but there was no bite to the accusation. 

"Oh, come on, stabbing people isn't the only ability that'll get you far in these sort of things," he huffed.

As it turned out, Technoblade didn't care whether he came along or not so long as he wasn't a liability, which Dream assured him he wouldn't be.

And so he went to sleep feeling way too giddy about something so stupid.

The next day, they ate a quick breakfast and left early in the morning.

According to the journal, there were remnants of Nether portals scattered all over the world. They were like giant door frames, made out of solid obsidian blocks piled onto each other. Most were apparently half destroyed, possibly during the same calamity that wiped out the Sea Dwellers. Some, however, were in good enough shape to still be serviceable so long as a spark could be ignited in them to open the actual portal. They seemed to have been built in shapes around the now sunken monuments, several hundred miles out in the middle of nowhere, sometimes swallowed like the rest of that civilization and sometimes remaining above sea level.

Given igniting a spark underwater would be a near impossible task, they set course for the one Dream had been headed to in the first place.

And so they travelled.

Dream was set on his original goal, he really was – no one else would suffer the same fate his mother had if he could have a say in it. Maybe he could go to the capital and present his findings to the King, so that the miracle of potions could be spread across the nation.

That was still his main goal, and he wasn't giving it up any time soon.

No, the problem was he had hoped his stupid crush on his new travelling companion would go away within a couple of days, once he'd actually spent some time with the man and the infatuation had worn off to leave simple admiration and respect to his skills.

It didn't go away.

It got worse.

At first he tried to excuse himself… to himself. Technoblade wasn't bad looking. His eyes had a strange tendency to go from dead to tunnel-vision-focused levels of intense, and it wasn't good for Dream's heart.

The worst part was probably his voice. It wasn't just that it was deep and constantly raspy and making it very difficult for Dream to walk on jelly legs. No, that he could get used to, and it would be a better excuse for his case. A deep voice was an agreed upon desirable quality among the people. The man just… made the strangest array of noises like it was practiced theatrics for no discernable reason. Random grunts of effort, exaggerated panting because apparently he had the walking stamina of a newborn deer, dumb high-pitched gasps-- the fucking laugh.

It was somehow worse than his own, and that was saying a lot.

And Dream just couldn't find a good enough excuse as to why it was  _ that _ what made him feel tingly all over.

It was even worse, because it barely happened during the first two days of their travels.

It was fairly uneventful, those first two days. Dream discovered with much frustration that he had to make triple the resting stops so that Technoblade wouldn't collapse in the middle of the road. The upside was, since the man insisted his walking stamina wasn't even that bad, Dream got to show off the fact he was way more fit for these kinds of adventures than him.

"You're just built different," the man sighed on the second stop of the first day, and Dream was embarrassed and disappointed at himself for laughing at that.

They set up camp in amiable silence, ate around a campfire, and slept each on their own tent. It was nice.

The problems began on the morning of the third day, when the harsh winds of a storm woke them up and Dream discovered his old and battered tent was being torn by the weather.

At that very moment he just resigned himself to it, because it  _ was _ a very old tent he'd already patched several times over.

It was only when night fell that they realized: Dream didn't have a tent anymore.

  
  


Sharing Technoblade's personal tent was the next step in Dream's downfall. 

By the third day they had already become comfortable with the other's presence, as it happens in trips like that one with people who get along. It was around the third day that Technoblade stopped keeping his demeanor on that practiced calmness at all times, and instead allowed himself to seemingly relax and be more open. This opened the flood gates for all the weirdly adorable noises that Dream couldn't get enough of, while essentially debunking his main and best excuse as to why the crush hadn't faded by then, which was 'he just has a hot voice'.

The felling of that excuse made the other two completely worthless, and so Dream was forced to reckon with the fact he couldn't explain the situation. 

As the days went by, it became increasingly obvious there  _ was _ an explanation; he just refused to admit to it.

Technoblade's personal tent was small – it was personal for a reason. To share it, they had to sleep back-to-back, lying under different blankets to prevent one of them from hogging them all.

There was a weird level of intimacy that was gained by falling asleep and waking up directly next to someone else. Dream didn't know why, but he could feel it. He could feel it in Techno's soft and sleep-laced good mornings as he sat up and stretched, his hands pushing against the cold canvas of the tent. He could feel it in the increasingly warm goodnights whispered into the darkness as they settled down to sleep, backs pressed together.

He could especially feel it in the way Technoblade went from asking "you're going to sleep?", to yawning "let's go to sleep".

It was the eight day of their journey when all of Dream's attempts to ignore his certainly-not-little-anymore infatuation issue came crashing down on his face.

They were traversing a roofed forest not unlike the one they first met in. Technoblade was walking through the grass reaching up to his knees, and Dream was exercising by jumping from one branch to another, following along.

Then he reached a particularly difficult section, from what he could see, and he stopped to mentally plan out a route through it while the other man continued walking past him.

It took Technoblade a moment to notice Dream wasn't following along anymore, and he stopped in his tracks to turn and look back up at him.

"Did something happen?" he asked, quirking a brow. Dream's chest tightened under his worry, even if it was small.

"No, this just looks like a difficult part to get across," he admitted, having to raise his voice a little for the other to hear him.

"You know you can always get down and walk like a normal person, right?" Technoblade deadpanned, no bite in his teasing.

"Where would the fun in that be?" Dream asked regardless, hearing himself smile.

Technoblade let out a soft huff, smiling as well, waiting patiently on his spot for Dream to get moving.

Once Dream had visualized a feasible route, he rolled his shoulders and took a deep breath before leaping. 

If Dream had to decide on something to pride himself upon above all else, it would be this.  
Being excellent when under pressure a close contender. 

He crossed the several-feet long gap between the branches with practiced ease, his hands catching the strong bark of the tree and pushing himself around the trunk in one swift movement. He kicked against the wood to jump forward, latching onto another branch and swinging with the force of his legs to launch himself and land on the next one. With the momentum strong, his boots had barely touched the branch when he leaped forward once more, across a gap twice the size of the first one. 

After a series of quick short jumps that were more precise long steps across canopies than anything else, he came to a crouching stop on the tree closest to his companion.

As he was both mentally patting himself on the back and berating himself for being such a showoff, simultaneously, he spared a glance at the man at ground level diagonally below him. 

The impression almost sent him slipping backwards, his heart jumping into his throat and his breath hitching behind his mask.

Technoblade was looking up at him, with an expression Dream could only describe as awestruck, his eyes  _ bright  _ and full of admiration and wonder and--

"What was  _ that?! _ " he exclaimed, excited, an unfiltered smile forming on his lips. "How is that possible?! At this point you're straight-up just flying!"

Dream didn't know what to say, his words sounding far too clear in the muffled numbness of the woods around them and his heartbeat hammering in his ears. He ended up just shrugging. "Eh, it's easy if you practice it."

"No it's not, you're such a showoff," Technoblade huffed, yet his eyes were warm and adoring and his smile was there despite what were probably his best efforts. He turned to leave, but his eyes didn't let go just yet. "Let's keep going – I want to find a clearing before nightfall."

And Dream followed, because of course he did.

That was the day he was forced to face an undeniable truth:

He was falling, 

He was falling for Technoblade. 

And he was falling  _ fast. _

It was a bitter realization, really.

Because Dream knew. If it had been a different person, in a different situation, then maybe it would've been easier. Simpler. Something to take note of and move on.

But this was Technoblade – the man he'd met less than two weeks ago and the person whom he was risking his neck for a chance to stay nearby. If only for another week. This was someone he'd come to admire in ways he may not have ever experienced before. A man so skilled it was no wonder the King's knights had sent him all on his own in what was arguably one of the most dangerous missions ever. If he was allowed to be presumptuous,  _ his friend. _

What was Dream next to him but the fool with too strong an emotional connection to myths and legends and no greater pleasure than making this man happy?

It was fine, he told himself. He had it under control.

(He didn't).

Once this was all said and done, he'd help him carry the dragon's head to the King, and they could part ways as friends. Or maybe just convenient travel companions, but he could dream (heh).

That was the most he could hope for out of this.

And he didn't plan to ruin it with his own misplaced expectations. 

By the tenth day, they reached the portal to the Nether. It looked just like the drawings in the old journal; the ground around it corroded and almost pulsating, as if something otherworldly was trying to crawl through. The frame was made out of solid obsidian, which made one wonder how the other ones had even been destroyed in the first place.

Regardless, Dream produced his trusty flint and steel from his pocket and lit up the doorway.

He stood back to watch the purple swirls beckon them in, fizzly particles floating around the frame and sizzling upon contact with the reddish pulsating rock of the ground – 'netherrack', according to the journal.

"Well, this is inviting," Technoblade hummed at his side, staring at the portal with contempt. "Are you sure this is it?"

"You want to turn back and return to square one?" Dream deadpanned, and the other winced.

"Good point," he mumbled. 

Diamond sword and crossbow at the ready, they took a stand in the door frame back-to-back, alert, as the world around them spun and twisted purple.

The Nether was hot.

Dream didn't like it immediately, and Technoblade at his back seemed to be in the exact same boat. 

Under the unspoken agreement to get out of there as soon as possible, Dream reminded him of what the journal had to say about what they needed, and they set course to find this supposed Fortress.

Dream took the lead in this expedition, as the one best suited for planning out a route through the difficult terrain while they advanced. He moved through hills and chasms, climbing up the face of walls if need be and having to pull Technoblade up afterwards. 

He'd never before lamented the fact he wore sturdy leather gloves.

After hours upon hours of walking non-stop, they were starting to slow down – or rather, Technoblade was. Dream tended to forget his own walking stamina was apparently superhuman.

"Should we find somewhere to rest?" he asked, turning to look at the man trailing dutifully behind him despite being out of breath and exhausted. 

"What?" the other gaped. "No, we need to keep moving."

"Dude, you're literally falling unconscious on your feet, you need to rest," Dream insisted. He wasn't going to take a 'no' on the matter.

"Well- Where would we even stop?" Technoblade motioned around them at the barren rocky landscape.

Dream spared a look as well. "We could go back to that blue fungus forest."

"Backtracking?" Technoblade frowned, clearly not thrilled about the idea.

"It's the best there is," Dream almost rolled his eyes in frustration. He wasn't happy about backtracking, either! "It's decided, we're going back."

"Now hold on--"

"Technoblade, I swear, I will carry you – and that's a threat," Dream declared, final, retracing his steps past the tired man and towards the blue forest in the near distance. "I won't have you fainting on me just because you're too stubborn to take a break."

Technoblade sputtered something unintelligible before following after him.

They ended up settling inside the fresh cover of one of the fungi, blocking off the small hole they crawled through with the tent's canvas to keep the overwhelming heat from getting in.

In a space even more cramped than Technoblade's personal tent, they sat against the soft mushy walls with their sides pressed together and their legs pulled up to their chests. Technoblade was out like a light, and Dream couldn't even focus on the uncomfortable position when the man at his side was resting his head on his shoulder in his sleep.

Dream wasn't entirely sure how he himself managed to fall asleep, either.

Unsure of how long they slept for, they were out and walking immediately upon waking up, feeling relatively more energized than before.

The Fortress was easy to spot, once they actually found it. It was a terrifying looming silhouette in the distance, full of bridges crossing over the smoldering seas of lava below. Getting inside wasn't a problem, and the monsters who roamed the halls were no match for Technoblade's raw power.

Dream made sure to collect samples of the soil and the strange fungus they found in a staircase room – it was supposed to be the main ingredient for potions, and the journal called it Nether wart.

Once that was obtained, the next point of interest were the so-called 'blaze spawners' – deadly nests on the bridges of the Fortress where these blaze creatures dwelled.

The problem was the bridges themselves.

The nests were easy to find, given the blazes would send fireballs flying towards them. Fighting the blazes was also simple enough – Dream's trusty shield and axe were perfect for the occasion.

But the bridges were too open. Too exposed. Yet with so little room to maneuver, it was just a long hallway without any walls to protect you from what might lay outside.

Dream went for the blazes while Technoblade guarded the entrance to the nest, fending off those coal-black skeletons with ease. 

He had taken down a dozen of them and collected all their rods when he left the relatively enclosed area,

...only to spot a hideous white  _ thing _ floating over the bridges, letting out a cracked cry and shooting a--

"Watch out!!" he called, frantic.

Technoblade turned in time to catch a glimpse of him jumping, the skeleton he'd been fighting crumpling into a pile of bones.

But before he could react, Dream tackled him mid-jump, sending the both of them tumbling over the dark bricks to the side as a fire blast blew up the spot Technoblade had been standing on.

Dream managed to recover as the bricks by their feet began falling down through the hole the explosion made, pushing himself up on his knees to help the dazed man at his side do the same--

But the white thing was merciless.

And he had barely managed to rise to one knee, ready to stand, when the same cracked cry split through the oppressive heat and a second fire blast was launched towards them.

The only thing Dream managed to do was use the impulse he'd built to stand,

...to pull the recovering Technoblade up and throw him haphazardly forward and away from danger.

In an instant, the explosion nearly in his face made something break in his ears, and he felt his mask slap hard against his forehead and nose under the impact. The air was seemingly squeezed out of his lungs, and hands clung to the bricks for bleeding life as the expansive wave pushed him back--

And then there were no bricks,

And then he was falling.

The air was thick around him, hot as it swept through his clothes, and Dream felt his mask slipping from place.

The last thing he heard was the wet, cracked, crushing sound of his bones breaking with the fall and his ribs puncturing his lungs.

The second-to-last thing, however, was Technoblade up in the distance screaming his name, distraught. 

After that, there was only the beep in his ears and the fast, consistent heartbeat in his head as blood rushed through and out of his body. There was the bubbly wetness in his attempt to breathe in, and the searing pain that coursed through his body that he couldn't even begin to process as he laid still on the netherrack.

He became distantly aware, after the short shock left him to his own devices, of a horrid broken and dying cry of what was probably the white thing that attacked them. The journal had a name for those… ghosts? Ghasts?

He began to feel wet lines stream down his face – tears, from the pain. He registered, vaguely, an ugly sound coming from above, like steel cutting through bricks at a rapid speed. Dragging. Tearing through the hardened clay – although he supposed that was fitting.

Something landed nearby, sloppy and unpracticed. He wasn't quite sure he could see. The black spots grew in his field of vision, corroding his sight, eating away at the blurriness of his tears to leave nothing but clear darkness. 

He wasn't sure he could breathe, either. The pain was too much to handle – the pain in the parts of himself that he could still feel. His head, throbbing. His face, wet with tears and blood and possibly sweat. His torso, punctured from within, two hands holding something being placed-- those were his own hands. And then another pair, cradling his' and the cold, smooth object between them.

His face again, as more tears fell on it--  _ on _ it?

He heard something crack, like the sparks of a firework. 

He heard his name, cried, pleaded, softly.

And light reached him from between the blackness in his eyes. 

Then he passed out, believing for a moment he had passed away instead.

For a while, he felt like his body was swinging, heavy, legs limp dangling back and forth as he moved without walking. He felt the rush of water, the warmth of fire, the coldness of being left alone--

He remembered his mother, humming lullabies as he fought a bad fever.  _ You're my little champion,  _ she would say,  _ you'd never lose to something like this. _

_ You're strong, Clay.  _

_ You'd fight. _

The sun was setting, when Dream opened his eyes. As the world around him slowly filtered into his senses, he noticed several things.

He was back in their world – out of the Nether.

He had bandages around his torso, beneath his clothes.

He could breathe.

He was hurting all over. 

But he could feel all of his parts again.

He could hear the crackle of a campfire, along with something thick bubbling nearby – the clinking of glass bottles, the soft shuffle of clothes, the fluffiness of whatever his head rested on.

With much effort, he tried moving his arms and legs, brushing the grass, fighting the soreness and the pain until he was unable to hold back a small huff of hurt.

He heard a small gasp, tiny, and the shuffle of clothes move towards him with hurry. 

"Dream--" Technoblade appeared in his field of view, frantic. His face was torn between worry and relief, and all of his attention was focused on him and him alone. "You're- Are you awake?"

Dream gathered forces to speak. "Techno…?"

Technoblade let out a shaky sigh, smiling. "Yes, it's me," he reached for something to the side. "Here," a small glass bottle was presented to him, with something sloshing inside. "Drink this, I had to scour that journal of yours for a recipe."

Hands weak and shaking, he reached for the bottle, vaguely aware of Technoblade helping him sit up with an arm securely around his shoulders. "Is this…?" he began, uncorking the bottle. "Is this a potion?"

"A regeneration potion, according to the journal," the other confirmed, holding him up and using his free hand to help him support the bottle. "It should bring you almost back to normal."

Dream pushed all his confusion and questions back as he downed the bottle's contents in a swift movement. It tasted vaguely bitter, and somewhat salty – like tears.

He felt the liquid go down his throat and a warmth erupt through his body, mending his wounds, fixing his bones, washing the pain and the ache away and leaving only a sore throat and small bruises along his body.

He felt as though he could breathe freely again, and took a deep breath to stave off the slight fizzly aftertaste of the potion.

"Ohh- I feel so much better," he mumbled, relieved, but very much tired.

"You do?" came Technoblade's voice next to him, hopeful. "I made two more, in case one wasn't enough--"

"I'm good now, really," Dream turned to look at him, giving him his most grateful smile. "Thank you."

Technoblade's eyes softened, and Dream realized then and there that he wasn't wearing his mask.

Before panic could spread, he heard Technoblade's breath hitch and he felt himself engulfed in a tight hug, the arm around his shoulders bringing him close against the man's chest, another arm wrapping the rest of the way. His hands reached up to the white shirt (where was the red coat?), unsure of what to do.

Technoblade just held him tighter, as if Dream would vanish if he didn't. 

"You fool," he heard the other mutter, choked. "You absolute  _ idiot _ , you pushed me- you--"

"Were you hurt?" Dream asked, worried, fearing he hadn't managed to throw him far enough, his hands reaching up his back.

"No! Because you- because you--!" Technoblade took a deep, shaky breath. "You almost-! I thought I'd  _ lost _ you, Dream- you could've- you--"

"But that would've killed you!" Dream pointed out, distressed.

"I had the totem with me, I was fine!"

"The what?"

"The artifact I took from the bandit's mansion, it was going to--" he cut himself short, swallowing past something. "I used it on you, that's why you're alive."

Dream blinked, pulling back enough to look him in the eyes. "You used it on  _ me?! _ But I thought that was-! Why would you--?"

"I don't--" Technoblade averted his gaze to the grass, pained, sighing. "I can't have you die on me, Dream, I- I don't know what I'd do."

"Well- I didn't want you to die, either," Dream admitted, chest tight. "That's why…"

"Yeah, but I had the totem on me," the other mumbled, petulant. 

"Maybe you should've told me how exactly that totem worked, to begin with," Dream frowned.

"I didn't expect I'd have to  _ use _ it," Technoblade frowned as well. "It was just insurance for me. And I never thought you'd…" he trailed off, voice small and weak. "I didn't think you'd do something like that. For me."

Dream let the silence rest for a bit. "...Thank you."

"You're the one who tried to save my life, I should be thanking  _ you, _ " Technoblade mumbled, tired.

"But you used the--" he discarded that line of thought in favor of a more pressing one. "What now? You only had one, right? Do you want to go find another one?"

"I just want ro get this over with," Technoblade sighed, leaning to rest his head on Dream's shoulder. He tried not to hold his breath. "You'll just have to be my insurance now."

"I can do that," Dream hummed, tentatively wrapping his arms around his shoulders. "I just have to watch your back, right? I've been doing that this whole time."

"I didn't think you would," Technoblade mumbled, dejected. 

"Why? Isn't that what everyone would do?" Dream questioned, confused. "We're…" _friends_ , "...we're traveling partners, that's what travelling partners do."

"Ah…" Technoblade croaked, quiet. "I've never had one of those."

Dream didn't quite know what to say to that for a second, so he just hid his face in the crook of his neck.

"You have me, now," was what he eventually murmured, and Technoblade pulled him close once more.

They looked over the journal once more, that night. They had everything they'd need from the Nether for now, so there was no need to go back in there. All that was left was gathering those things called Ender pearls, which were occasionally carried around by creatures from the End.

Upon looking at the rough drawing in the next page, Technoblade seemed to remember something. 

"I've seen them in the capital," he realized, sitting next to Dream by the campfire to look at the journal. "If those pearls are what I think they are, then the King's Knights might just have enough for us."

"You think they'll just freely give them away like that?" Dream questioned, confused, his throat still sore. "Like, I know you're on an official mission or something, but those pearls are apparently very valuable."

"Oh they  _ will _ hand them over, don't you worry," Technoblade assured, and Dream wasn't confident he had anything to counter that with.

Sleeping back-to-back with the man was somehow painful that night, and Dream didn't want to give way for his thoughts to tell him what he already knew he wished it was instead.

It would be  _ so easy _ to turn around, but that was something he couldn't risk.

It took them a week to reach the capital.

The air the entire way back was somehow strangely charged with something Dream didn't recognize. It was there every single time their eyes met, in the early mornings, when facing away from the other to sleep, when they celebrated catching their next meal, and sometimes even in the comfortable silences walking side by side.

He felt as though trying to put a name to it would make it real. Undeniable. Unavoidable. 

So he attempted to ignore it.

Dream didn't wear his mask on the way back. He felt as though it was pointless, now that the only person around had already seen his face on accident. If he focused hard enough, he could pretend it was still there; that the man sitting across the campfire from him couldn't see the tiny scars all over his jaw and cheeks, nor the off-color dots under his eyes that never washed away when he tried as a kid.

Once the city's gates were within sight, however, he fished his mask from within his satchel and tied it into place as he pretended not to feel Technoblade's eyes boring into his soul.

The mask had cracked during the fall, and it was a miracle it was still mostly in one piece with that giant canyon running diagonally across it. Although, in all fairness, it  _ was _ missing a small chunk in the left lower corner, but that was fine.

Dream repeated to himself that it was fine, as they walked past the gates and the guards bowed down to Technoblade. It was fine, as they walked down the long main street and the people went out of their way to catch reverent glimpses of them, singed and cut and soaked in Dream's blood. It was fine as they strolled directly into the castle, guards running around shouting notice of their arrival as though something monumental had just happened.

It wasn't nearly as fine, when they started walking past the King's Knights and they, too, bowed down to Technoblade. 

It was most certainly  _ not _ fine, when the King himself appeared with another man and rushed to meet them.

To meet  _ Technoblade. _

Dream stopped a few paces behind, silent, as the King and the other man began fussing over his travelling companion. How he'd been. Why had he returned so early. Why was he covered in blood, cut, and burned. Who was the man with him. 

_ Where was his crown? _

"You think I'm going to prance around with that thing on my head? Get out of here," Technoblade chuckled. "I wasn't going to risk losing it in the middle of nowhere."

"Yet you took that damned coat of yours and now look at it – it's a mess!" the other man exclaimed. 

"I think there's a big difference in value here," Technoblade mused.

"Just- Shut up," the King himself intervened. "Techno, I thought I told you to come back with the dragon's head."

"Yeah, no pressure on poor Technoblade," he chuckled, half a sigh out.

"Did something happen?" the other man asked, now sounding slightly worried.

"Not really," Technoblade turned to the King instead. "Call your knights for a second; I know how to get to the End."

The King's Knights were called on sight, and Dream stepped out of the way, standing by one of the columns.

"Has His Majesty called for us?" one of the knights asked, probably a captain.

The King turned to Technoblade, and he in turn looked over the knights. "Bring me all the resources gathered during night shifts."

"Yes, Highness!"

_ Highness _ .

Dream knew who King Phil was, and he knew he had two men under his care who were the princes of the kingdom.

He knew for a fact Prince William was one for music rather than battle.

So that meant--

"Prince Dave!" two servants approached from a corridor, making a beeline for Technoblade. "You're covered in blood!"

As the two servants fussed over him, Dream stood silently to the side, trying not to feel like a bloodstain on the castle's floors.

Although that would be selling himself far too highly.

"We have brought what you requested, Highness," a knight announced from the corridor down to the left.

"Ah, thank you," Technoblade mused.

"What about… that person?" the knight asked, turning to face Dream's general direction. "Shall I send someone to escort them out?"

"What- No, he's with me," Dream heard the slight frown in Technoblade's voice even before he turned to face him. "Let's go."

Dream didn't trust himself with anything in that moment, so he just silently nodded and followed along. He made sure to keep a respectful distance between himself and all three royals as he thanked whatever was out there for the solace of his mask.

He tried to reason with himself, as they walked through corridor after corridor. He  _ hadn't  _ just been committing a capital crime all this time by being casual with the Prince, right? He hadn't told him he was royalty to begin with, and had given him what was probably his nickname instead of the real thing. 

This wasn't Dream's fault, right? There was no way. If he was feeling particularly arrogant, he would even say the Prince had seemed as though he enjoyed being treated like anyone else. At the very least, he'd never expressed any semblance of discomfort in the way Dream treated him, nor had he ever demanded to be treated any particular way.

Maybe this was just the Prince's best opportunity to relax from castle life for a bit. Be a nobody for a couple of weeks, no expectations from the ones around you.

Dream had just happened to be at the right place, at the right time. 

Nothing more.

His attention was snapped back to the present when Technoblade handed him a dark turquoise sphere. They'd reached what looked like a storage room, a couple of crates opened and some things scattered around the table they stood by.

"It's these ones, right?" he asked, and Dream was once again grateful to have a mask.

He took the sphere carefully, wincing internally at the singed, blood-soaked leather gloves that cradled it. "The pearls, yeah, I'm pretty sure they're these ones."

"Those were obtained from the pitch black monsters that can vanish from sight and reappear right behind you," the knight informed. 

"Endermen- That confirms it," Technoblade hummed. "Now you just need to combine them with those glowing sticks."

"I didn't risk my neck getting them for you to call them 'glowing sticks'," Dream chuckled, scouring his satchel for the rods. Then he realized what he'd actually said, and how that might be a problem now that they were in the  _ castle _ and the  _ King _ was there and--

"You didn't risk your neck for  _ that _ , don't be dramatic," Technoblade huffed, but there was a somber softness to his tone, a reminder of what had actually happened.

"Oh yeah," Dream mused before his brain could catch up. "Since you're the Prince, does that mean I get a reward for saving your life?"

"You made me use an ultra-valuable artifact to save yours, so I think that cancels it out," Technoblade frowned, arms crossed over his chest.

"I wasn't the one who made the conscious decision to  _ waste _ that artifact on me," Dream frowned back, even if he knew the other wouldn't see. "If anything, I kept you from having to use it on yourself in the first place. You could've just saved it for later."

"But could I really just leave you to die there? Let's be real," Technoblade chuckled, but there was a strange harshness to his words. 

"Yes??" Dream insisted, although it came out sounding like a question. 

"Oh, don't be like that--"

"Stop!" the King exclaimed, interrupting Technoblade's annoyed scoff. He turned to the other Prince, who looked thoroughly surprised by what was going on. "Do Kirsten and I really sound like that when we argue over dumb stuff?"

"I-- I don't know," Prince William held back a laugh, attempting to sober up. "Technoblade, didn't you say you knew how to get to the End?"

With the situation somehow abruptly defused by the Prince, they focused back on the matter at hand. 

After much turning the pearls over in search for a way to combine them with the rods mashed into powder, Dream managed to make what the journal described as an Eye of Ender. As it turned out, the strange consistency of the pearls made it so that each and every one had a tiny hole in them. By pouring the powder through there – through the iris, the pearls reacted to the fiery substance and shimmered bright green and golden. 

Almost like--

"Dude, these are just your eyes, only ten times bigger," Technoblade mused as he examined one. Dream blinked behind his mask. "We could've just used yours."

"I want to  _ see _ the dragon, I'm not sacrificing my eyes," he frowned, the slightest bit amused. 

Technoblade fixed him a very particular look, and all the amusement vanished. "But you  _ were _ sacrificing your life?"

"Listen, if it came down to--"

"Good lord, just- Stop," the other prince demanded, done, cutting Dream's rebuttal short. "You two can continue that conversation when you're alone later; right now we need to focus on killing that dragon."

With the situation somewhat defused a second time, they proceeded to make eleven more Eyes, the King himself, the other prince, and the knight on guard all pitching in to help with the delicate task.

Once those were done, they headed out to the training grounds and Dream held out one of the Eyes towards the sky.

Just as the journal said, the Eyes would guide them in the direction of the Stronghold. As the orb began floating in one direction, Dream took note of it and fished his map out of his satchel, leaving Technoblade to catch the Eye once it dropped back down to the ground after a couple of seconds.

"That's northwest," the King provided, then casually leaned to look over Dream's shoulder as he marked down a straight line on his map. "You'll pass right through the desert, make sure to stock up on water on your way there."

"Oh joy," Technoblade deadpanned. 

"Actually," Dream began, but shut up immediately. Actually what? Not do as the King just said? He stared down at the map for a second too long, feeling everyone's eyes on him. "Nevermind."

"No, I do mind," Technoblade half pleaded half whined, entirely too monotone to be either. "Anything not to go through the desert."

Dream took a silent deep breath. That was technically permission from the Prince, so he should be good. "I was thinking we go straight west, then consult the Eyes again, and the Stronghold would be where the two lines connect," he traced an imaginary line with his finger. 

"Triangulation, that's actually a great idea," the King hummed, intrigued. Dream tried not to sigh in relief.

The King and the other Prince helped them to supplies and sent them off with their best regards within less than three hours of having arrived at the castle. Technoblade didn't ask for an additional tent, and Dream pretended he forgot about that, as well.

They set out westwards and settled down for the night by the riverside about four hours off the road.

The silence around the campfire was strange.

Dream was trying to reconcile the man he'd been traveling with, to…

Well, there wasn't much to process, Technoblade was surprisingly still the same. Just… more.

A bit more grand. A bit more powerful. A bit more unattainable. 

But he'd treated Dream all the same. He still didn't know, if he was merely a convenient travel partner or his friend. He figured it didn't matter, in the end. It wasn't as though Dream had any say in it. 

"I'm sorry."

Dream blinked, pulled back to the present by the low, throaty voice across the crackling campfire from him.

He looked up, the light of the flames hitting his mask making it a bit hard to see the man. "What?"

"I'm sorry, about today," Technoblade repeated, but that alone didn't explain much. He seemed to notice, and went silent for a moment to gather his thoughts. "I made it look like I was angry over the totem- like it was your fault. It isn't, I'm sorry."

Dream didn't know what to say. "But you did go through all the trouble of getting it, I understand it was important--"

"It's not--" Technoblade cut in, apparently regretting it instantly. Dream made no attempt to continue that line of thought, however, and the other swallowed past something, arms around his knees. "I mean, it  _ was _ important; but it was just an object and- well, you were right in that it would've broken for me had you not saved me," a pause. "But this was never really about the totem, is what I meant."

Dream felt as though a weight was lifted from his shoulders only to be immediately replaced by something else. If it wasn't the totem, then…

"I… I'm not sure I understand," he managed out, confused and hesitant. 

Technoblade visibly dreaded trying to put his thoughts to words, so Dream just waited as patiently and unjudging as he could. 

"I don't like it, when people do that – saving a life for the cost of their own," he mumbled, gaze downcast and fingers fidgeting with his sleeves. "You'd think I'd be used to it by now, considering who I am; but I'm not. I trained so that nobody would have to look out for me and die for it, and I also don't frequent the knights much – I go on missions solo. I just…" a sigh. "I get the knights, somewhat, I can't change them: it's their job. They're protecting the Kingdom's future, for all they know. I have a value bigger than my own, to them. But you?" he looked up, his eyes tracing the crack on the mask's surface. "I didn't-- I  _ wasn't  _ that. I was just another guy. A nobody. You shouldn't have had a reason to- y'know, to  _ die  _ for me. I was--" he took a deep breath, averting his gaze once more. "I was  _ scared _ , that this was just something people around me gravitated towards doing. You were the  _ one _ person I was so sure I wouldn't have to sit through watch  _ die _ for me--" his mouth clicked shut, his hands gripping his sleeves. Dream's throat was dry. "I'm sorry," he deflated. "I'm grateful, I really am- I owe you my life. You saved me. Totem or no, you saved me from having to nearly die, regardless of if I would've made it out alive or not. And I don't think I'll be able to repay you. But…" he trailed off, gaze softening. "Don't do that ever again, please. I don't know why you did it, but… I don't want you to die for me, Dream. If you want to do something for me, then… live. At least as long as we stick together, for this mission, I don't know. Just- don't give me another corpse to carry on my shoulders."

Dream tried not to feel guilty. He  _ did _ save his life, after all. And he couldn't have known about this- about the way Technoblade felt towards actions like those.

However, Dream knew, deep down, that he would've done it regardless of if he knew or not. He would've died feeling horrible for what he'd be leaving him with, had he known; but the other option was simply out of the question.

But he'd try. For Technoblade, he'd defy death itself if necessary. 

"I won't die for you, I promise," he assured, soft and earnest. Technoblade looked up at his mask, and Dream wanted to melt under the hope in his eyes.

"I'm holding you to that one," he croaked, tired. Dream nodded.

It was cold, that night. They ended up extending both blankets together and settling down under them, for whatever extra warmth they could get. 

Five minutes in, and Technoblade was still trembling slightly against Dream's back.

"Still cold?" Dream asked into the darkness, hushed and soft.

Technoblade let out a quiet sound that more closely translated to a groan of annoyed affirmation. 

Wordlessly, Dream swallowed back his nerves and shuffled under the blankets to turn over and face the other man's back. He managed to make out in the darkness how Technoblade threw a glance over his shoulder, before shuffling to lay face-to-face with Dream.

Dream draped the arm holding the blankets over his shoulder, and felt him scoot closer until his face was buried in the crook of his neck and his hands were holding onto his shirt.

He tried to slow down his heartbeat as he got comfortable in this new position and pretended his face didn't feel very hot all of a sudden.

And so they slept.

The journey to the stronghold was similar in a way to the journey to the Nether portal: the air between them wasn't tense and weird like it had been when they traveled to the capital, but it  _ was _ oddly charged like the later days before going into the Nether. Except now Dream could feel it all the time. In the warmth of Technoblade's eyes on him. In the fondness with which he spoke his name. In the stolen glances. In the nervous stutters. In the mirthful and small laughs. In the easy conversation about menial topics that toed the line of intimacy while avoiding the elephant in the room. 

The softness of the morning grogginess went on until their camp had been cleared and they were on the move again. The whispered goodnights drifted off as they laid snuggly back-to-back under the same blankets. If Dream woke up some mornings to the feeling of the other's chest against his back and a pair of arms tossed over his middle, he pretended to still be fast asleep when Technoblade woke up and sheepishly sat up to stretch. If he felt him lean ever closer when they reviewed the journal, he kept his eyes trained on the pages and his thoughts on the sketches and words.

If he enjoyed every second of it all, he avoided thinking about it. He pretended he didn't want to set the journal aside and find out just how close the other would let him lean in. Pretended he didn't want to press back against that warm chest and let those arms warp tighter around him, or even turn over to snuggle into the embrace.

It was fine. He was fine.

It took them two whole weeks to find the Stronghold. 

It was buried deep underground, the complex staircase leading down to it partially submerged in water from an old organic aquifer system passing through. The inside was half-destroyed and molding away to the humidity, rooms upon rooms and corridors with scratched floors from where heavy equipment was moved. A moth-eaten library, a sight both of them lamented upon finding.

It was at the portal room that Technoblade caught Dream by the shoulders and halted him in his tracks.

"The dragon's head must be gigantic," he stated, dead serious. "You're going to help me carry it back to the capital, right?"

Dream caught the plea in there, too. The  _ don't die _ . The  _ remember you promised me. _

Little did Technoblade know, he'd already vowed to that.

"Of course," he assured, a lopsided grin breaking free. "Can't let you take all the credit."

Technoblade huffed at that, but there was a trusting smile on his face as he did so.

With weapons at the ready, they counted to three before jumping together into the galaxy of the portal.

The End was pitch black.

It took their eyes a moment to adjust, to distinguish the pale stone beneath their boots from the black pillars of solid obsidian surrounding a platform in the middle of this island seemingly suspended over the nothingness. There were other creatures on the island – Endermen, they both whispered in realization at the same time – a pair of glowing purple eyes moving through the darkness, their black bodies lost amidst the void around them. There was faint light coming from atop the pillars, from the crystals that would heal the dragon if hurt yet explode if hit hard enough. 

And the dragon…

The dragon was perched atop the platform in the middle, pitch black against the nothingness, the eyes a glowing bright purple staring straight into their souls.

"We take the crystals out first, else the dragon will never die," Dream provided, hushed, his back against Technoblade's as they hid behind a pillar. 

"Gotcha," the other hummed, fetching his bow.

Technoblade's aim turned out to be spectacular, and between him and Dream they made quick work of the only sources of any significant light on the island.

The dragon growled, threatening, now only a pair of eyes staring from within the shadows.

The fight was tense, and it lasted a little under twenty minutes. They couldn't see, so they had to rely on trying to attack whatever body mass was connected to the big reptile eyes staring them down. The dragon would push them back with its wings, slap them away with its tail, claw at the ground and stomp to try and squash them. It would breathe a strange purple fire upon them, and the battlefield would be briefly illuminated with the searing magenta-purple. 

Dream aimed for the eyes, a shot in the darkness with a glowing target. He had to make sure Technoblade was near him, lest he shoot him instead.

One.

Two,

And with an angry and pained roar, the glowing dots had disappeared to leave room for hellfire to fall upon them. The dragon clambered down from its perch in a literal blind fit of rage, spewing purple flames all over the place and lighting up a path for them to take.

As Technoblade rushed in, sharp diamond blade ready in his hands, Dream punctured the dragon's wings with arrows against the ground.

So that it wouldn't fly away.

So that it wouldn't smack his companion as he ducked under a struggling wing and made for the neck.

Dream shot the jaws, the arms, as Technoblade pivoted out of the way of more flames.

And when sharpened diamond met the soft scales under the neck, light erupted from the rapture. Purple blood spewed down over the ground, flowing in a deep rich river, soaking the man underneath. There was a strange noise, a strange sensation, a strange light; it was as though something was breaking. Shattering. The atmosphere was opening up for them to breathe in the coarse air of the nothingness as the dragon's head fell limp over the pale rock.

And it was dark.

And as the altar where the dragon had been perched lit up in the softest blues from below, the glint caught in the diamond sword and the blood trickling down it turned to face Dream.

Dream's boots were already splashing through the blood as he covered the short distance to the dragon's body, unbelieving, to make sure it was dead.

To confirm, that the head was fully severed. 

That they'd really done it.

He spun to face Technoblade, and he felt more than he saw the man tackle him in celebration and lift him in his arms and--

It was warm. 

Technoblade's laughter was warm as he spun him in glee. His arms were warm as they held tight to Dream's middle. Dream's face was warm as he smiled, as he laughed along, as all the blood inside him rushed to his cheeks and all the blood around him seeped into his clothes.

And it was so very warm, and so very purple.

And the dragon's head was so very heavy.

Dream isn't exactly sure how they managed to make it back in the exact same amount of time the trip there took them. They made a light wooden platform and secured the head atop it with ropes and vines, and dragged it the entire way back between the two of them.

By the time they reached a river, the blood coating their clothes had rusted and dried into a purplish caramel-like color, and the only thing water helped them with (aside from washing the blood off their bodies and hair) was getting rid of the putrid smell.

So now their clothes smelled vaguely of fermented fruit, for some reason. Dream hoped a thorough wash with detergent soap would take the smell away, but he doubted the bloodstains would ever wash off.

The closer they drew to the capital, the more Dream lamented them having such an efficient way of transporting the head. Technoblade grew quieter as the days went by, and the odd behaviour didn't help Dream in trying to ignore the fact their little alliance would end once they reached the city.

There would be no reason for Dream to stick around anymore. Sure, he wanted to spread the word about potions, but that didn't directly translate into spending more time with Technoblade. 

It was the second to last day, before they were supposed to sight the city's gates, and they'd set up camp a couple of hours off the road. The dragon's head sat on its planks to the side, covered in what now was per usual with Dream's old canvas tent. 

Technoblade was sitting by Dream's side, the campfire keeping them both company. He wasn't sure when exactly they started sitting next to each other instead of across, but he couldn't complain. 

Technoblade poked the campfire with a stick absentmindedly, his thoughts probably far far away from the moment. Dream focused on the warmth of the flames illuminating his face, ignoring the warmth of the man seated beside him.

"What are your plans now?"

Dream blinked. "What?"

"Where will you go, once this mission is over?" Technoblade rephrased, tossing the stick into the fire. "Back to your hometown?"

His hometown? There wasn't much to go back for, in there. It was far away, and he'd left no friends nor relatives behind. "I doubt it," he mused, uncertain of why he was asking such a thing in the first place. "I'm not sure what my plans are, if I'm being honest. Like, I want to see if potions can offer something to medicine, but other than that?" a pause. "I don't know."

Technoblade hummed, pensive, his gaze set on the charcoaled logs. "Do you…" he began, trailing off. Dream turned to look at him, patient, admiring the shadows dancing across his face. "Do you want to stay with me?"

Dream blinked again, taken by surprise, unsure of how to react to such a question – unsure of what it even  _ meant. _

"...What?" he managed out after a second.

"Stay at the castle with me. As… I don't know," Technoblade sighed, attempting to explain his thoughts. "It's dumb, I'm sorry--"

"Oh, come on, it's not- it's not  _ dumb, _ " Dream interjected. Technoblade took a deep breath, apparently steeling himself. 

"I've just…" he tried again. "I've realized, I think… I think I might be in love with you."

There was silence for a beat.

Dream's words died in his throat. "You  _ think? _ " he whispered, desperate. 

Technoblade reached to grasp at his own shirt, over his heart, troubled; before turning to face him. Dream couldn't breathe. "I don't think travelling partners--  _ friends, _ are supposed to feel like this."

Dream stared, lovestruck, at the man by his side. At his doubtful yet intense eyes. At his lips as they pursed into a thin line in nerves. At the light of the flames on his jaw and cheeks, catching in his hair like golden honey.

At the closeness.

"...Like how?" he whispered, foolish, seeking the warmth next to him.

"Like this…" Technoblade murmured back, hardly above a whisper, hardly audible if not for his breath against his lips--

Dream closed his eyes and let the other guide him. Show him, the gentleness of his touch. The softness of his lips against his own. The warmth where his hands found rest on his waist and nape.

They were both breathless when they separated, hands refusing to leave their places, eyes refusing to look elsewhere. 

Dream breathed in, trying to gather what thoughts he had left. "I don't think so," he decided, chest tight and voice private. "I would know," he chanced a sheepish smile. "I've been feeling like this, too, for a while now."

Technoblade's eyes widened slightly, his gaze  _ bright _ , as his breath hitched and his lips parted gently in surprise. His hand slid from his nape to cup his cheek, soft, and Dream could just melt, leaning into the touch.

"Let me kiss you again," he murmured, reverent, and Dream was gone. 

"You don't need to ask."

Dream was kissed until his lips were bruised and he couldn't breathe, and Technoblade's face was as warm as the flames of the campfire as he hid in the crook of his neck, soft locks tickling his cheeks and lips sending shivers down his spine from where they brushed his neck.

Dream's wish of sleeping in Technoblade's arms was granted that night, and the giddiness from the realization it wouldn't be the last time nearly kept him from falling asleep.

The capital was waiting for them with open arms, having suspected their successful return when the creatures and the monsters stopped appearing during the nights. The farthest sighting had been reported two towns over before it stopped, meaning the threat had been expanding as they'd assumed.

But it was over now.

The dragon's head was set in the castle courtyard as some knights dragged them almost completely tainted purple to meet the king.

Who, along with the other prince, didn't seem to mind their state as they crushed Technoblade in a hug of celebration. 

To Dream's mortification and shock, the other prince dragged him into the hug shortly afterwards. Dream decided, defeated, that Technoblade's arm around his waist was worth the suffocation of the other two trying to bearhug them both simultaneously. 

It was over.

Technoblade smiled at him, bright, and Dream didn't bother trying to pick up his mask from where it fell to the flood amidst the hug.

He smiled back.

And they didn't notice Prince William begrudgingly (but happily) paying a smug King Phil a couple of gold coins as they watched the other two race each other to the kitchen with the warmest smiles they'd ever seen.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading <3


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